


All the wrong things

by notveryhandy



Series: Whoops you died! [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Immortality, Jack is sad, Other, War, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:01:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21977752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notveryhandy/pseuds/notveryhandy
Summary: During the Year that Never Was, Jack has plenty of time to reminisce. This is surprisingly unhelpful.Later and earlier on, he wonders how his life ended up like this.
Series: Whoops you died! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1712161
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	All the wrong things

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t own Doctor Who.  
> Features mild violence/torture. Not necessarily in chronological order. Please review/kudos if you can.  
> Enjoy!

He finds himself fighting in World War 2 one day, and curses the universe  silently.  The men around him do not question how he can survive anything from poison gas to a bullet to the head, or how he doesn’t even flinch when shrapnel hits him.  They are far too busy trying to keep themselves alive, and seldom notice the odd young soldier who never seems to  be wounded  or tired. He doubts they’d believe him if he told them the truth.

Sometimes he finds himself in a moment of relative quiet (although never silence). In these brief pauses, he lets his mind drift to distant memories, ones of Rose and the Doctor.  He wishes he could hate Rose for condemning him to this hellish half-life, but the Doctor would not approve. And that’s what it’s about, isn’t it? The Doctor’s approval.

* * *

Decades later and he is on the Valiant, staring into the Master’s burning eyes. The look of pure glee when he slices Jack’s chest open and watches Jack die is one that is etched into Jack’s memories and nightmares.

Another weapon, another day.  Bored, the Master shoots Jack and watches his bloody body slump back onto the floor, clothes and mind in tatters  .  He probes through Jack’s shattered thoughts, and rips them still further apart with a vicious satisfaction  . Jack can do nothing but  silently  scream as life fades from his body.

A knife slides across his skin, tearing open a recently healed wound.  Jack winces but doesn’t bother to make a sound of distress, knowing any sign of weakness will only amuse the Master more. The Master seems to sense this and the blade digs in deeper; he pulls it out and smears blood all over Jack’s chest. How pretty.

* * *

A stilted conversation with the Doctor a few years after the Year that Never Was. The Doctor appears even younger than before, but mentally he seems millenia older. This Doctor is far more awkward than his previous counterparts, and much blunter than the last Doctor Jack has met. He’s no less oblivious though. Jack tries not to comment on the Doctor’s less-than-decent fashion choices, ones which make him stick out amongst everyone else in the cramped café. He’d like to call it cosy, but it’s dingy and suffocatingly warm.

”Have you done anything interesting recently, Doctor?”

”Well, I saved Andromeda’s Spiral from certain doom, and nearly blew up Mars for the second time... but nothing out of the ordinary.” 

Jack laughs at the last comment. “I suppose that is your idea of ordinary.  Maybe  mass destruction is a Time Lord thing.”

”I don’t know, Jack. I’d say forgetting all the important things in life is quite a Gallifreyan trait.”

”How so?”

”On Gallifrey, we were so busy working and learning that we  barely  noticed if it was someone’s birthday, let alone their funeral.”

”Sounds like a miserable place. Do you miss it?”

”I suppose I do. But  really  , it’s a case of ‘you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone’. Besides, it’s been so long since I was last there that I can  barely  remember it. I can’t remember anything important about it, just... the little things, like the colour of the sky on a cold winter’s day, or my favourite teacher’s face when I pranked them.” 

“I understand that. I wish I could remember the good parts of my life, but I’m lucky if I can remember my own name sometimes,” Jack says  quietly. “And I hate it.”

“Yeah. Do you ever feel like you’ve forgotten all the wrong things?”

* * *

There is always screaming on the Valiant. Usually it’s someone in Martha’s family, or a crew member who had displeased the Master. Sometimes it’s the Doctor, begging for forgiveness and _mercy, please, you can’t do this!_ Sometimes it’s Jack, still reeling from whatever torture he’s been subjected to this time. Sometimes it’s the Master, on the nights when the drums are too loud and nightmares from the depths of hell come creeping into his head.

Jack hates those nights, because the Master is far harsher to him than usual. He seems disgusted with himself for showing weakness and determined to show Jack who’s boss.  Jack should feel pity, but by now he can  barely  muster the energy for emotion, and  merely  sits there in a numb haze of fear.  He tries to remember life before this endless hell, but everything before now is completely blank. On days like this, future seems further away than ever.

* * *

Martha is far warmer and kinder than the Doctor has ever been, and he enjoys his occasional meetings with her. They spark a happiness in him he has not felt for years, and he is finally able to relax and put centuries of heartache behind him, if only for a few hours. Of course, she leaves in the end, as all people do.

Tired of this world, he spends more and more time alone or with Ianto, unable to interact beyond his one friend and lover. When Ianto is gone, there is nothing of any importance left on this planet, and he sees no point in staying.

* * *

Ashildr - or Me - is a curious person, cold and detached and so very familiar. Looking at this immortal, he sees in them something he has not known for too long - himself.

“Immortality is tiresome, don’t you think?” they ask, on a cold day when nobody else is around, and even their friend Clara is gone. “I’ve lived too long to care any more. Do you agree, Jack?”

”Sort of, I guess. I’d say that it’s having so many memories that you forget all the wrong things. I can’t recall the last time I was happy, or around friends - at least, the mortal kind,” he decided.

”Fuck the Doctor. Without them, I’d be dead, not living this stale, rotten half-life.”

Jack wants to hate the Doctor too, but he  just - _can’t._ The Doctor has not always been kind, but Jack is still  blindly  loyal to them. It’s stupid, and it’s uncontrollable. Jack will always be in the Doctor’s shadow, a pale mockery of the great hero who saves worlds in the blink of an eye. Jack knows he is a constant reminder of all the Doctor’s mistakes, all the messes that can’t quite  be cleaned  up.

* * *

Some desolate planet, a half-destroyed city, and Jack stands in its ruins. Waiting. He sees a lonely figure wandering towards him, and figures it must be an archaeologist. Or just an idiot. Nobody else (besides a Time Lord) would come to this miserable place.

”Who are you?” he says, voice croaky with lack of use.

”Now why should I tell you that?” she asks, eyes dancing with mischief.

”You’re River Song, aren’t you?”

She narrows her eyes at him, which tells Jack he’s correct.

”How do you know that? I don’t exactly go around telling people my na - oh. Are you Jack Harkness?”

”Yes.”

”That explains it. But that doesn’t tell me why you’re here. Unless I’m missing something...”

”I’ve been here for a while, waiting for a way off. My ship broke and I’ve been here for years. Do you... have a way out?”

”What benefit is there for me?” she says, still wary.

”Er...”

”So none.”

”Do me a favour.  Just  this once, be kind. I haven’t seen kindness in anyone for years.”

”Alright, stranger.  Just  this once. Oh, and by the way?”

”Yes?”

”You owe me one.”  She laughs as she walks back towards her ship, and Jack finally lets himself wonder if things might get better.

* * *

They don’t, of course, and in later years Jack wonders how could have been so naïve. He’s sitting on a rock on some dying planet, watching the stars go out - he thinks it’s called Odysseus. How fitting. A planet called Nobody, and indeed nobody of any worth is on it. Jack wonders why he ended up here, and if his life is  just  a cruel joke for the universe to laugh at. It  probably  is, knowing his luck.

Not a single star can be seen now. The sky is a black hole, a vast and lonely stretch of blackness with not even the smallest pinprick of light to brighten it up. It is a good reflection of his mind, a pit full of unimaginable misery. This planet will eventually crumble and be lost to the void, one more broken place to be forgotten. 

The man looking out from this rocky outcrop is not the Jack of the past. There is no light in his eyes, nor the slightest hint of joy in his body. He is a broken shell of what he once was, feeble and cracked and utterly gone. Jack can’t even recall a happy memory to give him something to think about.

He thinks back to a conversation from years ago, and thinks he  truly _has_ forgotten all the wrong things. But then again, there was very little good to remember anyway, so what does it matter?

He wants to stop thinking, to be able to forget everything and enjoy the peace. But it’s not peace,  just  silence. And that is far worse than any wound or punishment others could ever inflict on him.

“Well, then, I guess I’m my own worst enemy,” he says, in a voice wracked by age and pain. The wind which whistles through this place laughs at him, and he finally gives in to the universe.


End file.
